


everytime

by staticas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cranky Dean, Established Relationship, Fights, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Resolved Argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 21:52:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11090652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticas/pseuds/staticas
Summary: Something's off with Dean this morning. Cas can't figure out what without a bit of uninvited help.





	everytime

Castiel rubs his eyes, exhausted. He was supposed to go home almost two hours ago, but he needs this expense report done tonight.

The day has already been incredibly long, and being in the office this late is only drawing it out. Usually, a task like this would be done much earlier, but something’s been bothering Castiel all day.

Dean was acting oddly before he left this morning. From the moment they woke up next to each other, Dean was looking at him, almost excitedly.

“Mornin’, baby,” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss Castiel softly.

Dean had pulled back and reached over to try to tame his husband’s abhorrent bed hair, smiling fondly. At first Castiel thought that he was in the mood for morning sex, but did nothing to initiate it. Dean never had a problem with letting his desires be known to Castiel, so he dismissed it as the issue.

Throughout breakfast, which was just toast as Castiel was in a hurry to get to work, Dean continued to peer at him over his coffee mug. Not that it was annoying or unsettling, simply that usually Castiel is the one that does most of the staring. Dean says it’s creepy.

They shared a comfortable, quiet morning, going about their routine as usual. Castiel showered with the door open as Dean brushed his teeth, playfully twisting on the hot water suddenly, and laughing at Castiel’s yelp when his shower went frigid. They dressed together, Dean straightening Castiel’s tie because he can never get it right.

The whole morning, Castiel recalled as he sat at his desk, Dean seemed to be waiting for something. Paying special attention when Castiel entered the room, or looking eagerly at him if he called his name.

Nothing came to light though, and so Castiel kissed him goodbye as he left for work, resolving he was just making things up in his head. Dean was fine.

Now, sitting miserably in front of his computer, with his brain numb and his stomach rumbling, Castiel tries to put the odd morning out of his mind and finish this damn report.

Twenty minutes later, it’s blessedly done, but it’s also nine o’clock. It’s very dark outside and there’s no other cars in the parking lot.

The drive home is fairly quick without the rush hour traffic, and Castiel is extremely relieved to pull into his garage next to the Impala.

He opens the door to his home and is greeted by warmth and wonderful smells. Shucking off his jacket and removing his shoes, he pads into the kitchen, but finds no food. Evidence of cooking, though; clean dishes sitting on the drying rack and, of course, the amazing smell.

Looking out past the dining table to the loungeroom, he spots Dean’s head over the top of a couch, facing the tv. He smiles to himself, and wants nothing more than to curl up against his warm body and watch some trashy tv.

“Hello, Dean,” he calls out as he sets his things down on the dining table and beings to take off his tie.

Dean doesn’t respond.

“I’m sorry I’m so late home.” Castiel frowns in confusion when again, he stays silent. “Did you cook? It smells wonderful.”

He walks over to the lounge, around to where Dean can see him. Or, _could_ see him if he looked anywhere but the tv. Castiel positions himself directly in front of Dean, but he refuses to acknowledge that he’s even there.

“Dean?”

Dean purses his lips and looks through Castiel, focussing on nothing.

Castiel blinks, then crosses his arms. “You’re pouting.”

That gets a reaction, and Dean finally looks up and makes an indignant guffawing sound. “I am _not_ pouting!” he says, pouting.

Castiel moves and sits down next to him on the lounge, but doesn’t touch him. He knows his husband gets like this sometimes, and when it isn’t annoying, it’s cute. Dean likes to think he is mature, but they both know he can be childish when he’s upset.

“What’s wrong? You were acting strangely this morning, has it got something to do what that?”

Dean turn to him, and this time he’s angry. “ _Acting strangely_? Jeez, Cas, you have no idea, do you?”

Castiel frown, confused. “Dean, did I do something?”

Dean doesn’t answer, just grinds his teeth as if to distract himself from yelling. In the background, the house phone starts ringing. They mutually decide to let it go to voicemail.

Irritated, Castiel’s voice starts to rise. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“No.”

 “How am I supposed to fix it if I don’t even know what it is?”

After six years of marriage, this isn’t their first fight by any means. But Castel is tired and hungry and disappointed that he can’t just cuddle his husband and fall asleep on his chest.

“That’s the _point_!” Dean yells. “You’re supposed to know what’s wrong!”

The phone in the background continues, adding to the escalating volume in the room.

“I’m not psychic, Dean!”

“You shouldn’t _have_ to be!”

“Dean, this is ridiculous and you know it! You’re getting upset over _nothing_!”

There’s a lull in the yelling and the voice machine beeps loudly. Sam’s voice rings out across the room.

“ _Hey you guys, sorry to be calling this late, especially today, but hey you’re obviously busy, wink wink. Anyway, me and Jess wanted to see if you wanted to catch up for dinner this weekend to celebrate, there’s a really good Vietnamese place downtown and it’s got some_ really _spicy stuff Cas would love! Anyway, call me back tomorrow, and we’ll sort it out then. Again, sorry for interrupting, happy anniversary!_ ”

Another beep signifies the end of the message.

Castiel is frozen, eyes locked with Dean’s who still looks angry but also smug at Castiel’s obvious shock.

He blinks. “I fo—”

“Forgot.” Dean cuts him off shortly. “You forgot our anniversary.”

Castiel doesn’t know what to do. He looks away and just sits there with his mouth open like a fish. He wants to apologise but he knows he’s already fucked up beyond that. _God_ , how did he forget their anniversary? He’s always the one spot on with dates, never forgets a birthday or special occasion.

His eyes flicker back to Dean, his beautiful husband who is upset and hurt, who he was just yelling at. Who looks less angry and more sad now, his long eyelashes clumping with unshed tears.

“You… you cooked.”

Dean nods, his eyes shining.

“You cooked and I didn’t even come home, because I… it doesn’t even matter. I shouldn’t make excuses.”

Dean wipes at his eyes roughly, trying to stem his tears. “No. You shouldn’t.”

“Dean, I– I’m so sorry.” He shifts closer and reaches out gently to hold the side of his face, sweeping a thumb along his cheekbone.

Dean releases a shuddering sigh and sits up a little more. He smiles at Castiel like it’s alright, and that it’s okay. “It’s alright.”

Castiel shakes his head. “No, it’s not. I’ll make it up to you, I’ll take you out and you can order the biggest, greasiest, most disgusting double cheeseburger, and—”

“Cas!” Dean grins, taking his hands in his own. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. I mean, yes, you are definitely going to take me out, but it’s okay now. And yes I made a pie for tonight, but honestly it was more because I wanted pie than because of the date.”

Castiel laughs suddenly. “Of course you made pie. I should have brought some home.”

“Nah, homemade is better. C’mon, come here.”

He holds out his arms and finally Castiel gets to fold himself up against Dean’s warm body, breathing him in.

They spend the night like that, watching trashy tv just like Castiel was looking forward to. When they go to bed they’re both far too tired to do anything, but Castiel kisses Dean long and deep, and they fall asleep wrapped in one another.

“Next year I promise I’ll remember,” Castiel whispers into Dean’s hair as he slips away.

 


End file.
